Brittany and Santana's Infinite Playlist
by askyofdiamonds
Summary: Why did Brittany choose those songs to give to Santana?
1. Chapter 1

_16__th__ August 2001_

Santana Lopez bent her ankles over and scuffed her shoes against the stone tiles as she waited impatiently on the Pierce family's porch. She'd pushed the doorbell _ages _ago, and she _knew _they were at home because Mrs Pierce had told her on the phone that Brittany couldn't leave the house. The heat of the midday sun was beating down hard on the back of her neck making her whole head feel heavy, and she sighed melodramatically, switched the CD she was holding from her left hand to her right, and reached up onto her tiptoes to press the button again. As she leant on it, though, the door swung open, and there was Brittany's mom, smiling down at her.

"Okay, okay! I'm here, Santana! You can stop that!" she laughed, waving a hand across the street to signal an okay to Santana's mom, who was watching from their kitchen window. "I guess it's been a while since you two hung out, huh?"

"It's been _one whole week_, Mrs Pierce!" Santana replied sincerely, wriggling between the gap underneath where Brittany's mom's arm was resting on the doorframe. "Can I come in now?" she asked, from inside the hallway.

Mrs Pierce rolled her eyes, though they still sparkled brightly, just like Brittany's did when she was pretending to be mad but wasn't really. "Do I have a choice in the matter?" Santana thought about it for a second, before shaking her head and laughing back. "Listen, Santana, I know I said today was the day you could come round to visit, but Brittany's still recovering, and I want you to go easy on her. She's not ready to play too hard just yet. Can you be nice and gentle for me?"

Santana nodded furiously and wriggled on her feet again. "Uh-huh. Can I go upstairs?" Mrs Pierce's head had barely even finished its nod before Santana's feet were stampeding up to the top of the stairs, second door on the left.

"Britt Britt?" she called, slamming her feet into a halt as she got to the door, suddenly nervous. She reached for the handle, and pressed her ear against the door, still waiting for a response. "Can I come in?" A muffled sound came through from the other side and she opened it a crack. "Did you say yes? I can't hear you," she whispered.

"Um, well, you can," came the response, "but you have to keep your eyes shut."

"What? Why?" Santana asked, pushing the door open further and clamping her eyes tightly shut. "Britt I can't see to get to you…" Within a second, though, a firm pair of hands clamped around her waist and she flung out her arms to grab Brittany around the neck, pulling her in. "I've missed you so much!" she cried.

"Me too, San! It feels like forever!" Brittany replied.

"Wait, why are my eyes closed?" Santana asked, still not opening them up. "Do you look like an alien? Did you get a rash? Is it purple?"

"No, not an alien," Brittany mumbled. "I look the same, I guess." She sighed. "I just look so stupid with this patch over my eye. I don't want you to laugh at me." Santana stood still as she felt Brittany break away from their hug and sit down on her bed. "Britt Britt, listen to me," she said, sincere as ever. "You never look stupid. Never. I promise."

Even with her eyes closed she could feel Brittany squirm. "I do a little bit, San."

"Well I promise I won't think so. Can I open my eyes so I can give you my present?"

Brittany thought about it. "Only one eye. That way we'll be the same."

Santana chewed on her bottom lip. "Okay, well, I'll try," she replied. Carefully, she held one eyelid shut with a finger and opened the other one. Then, slowly, she prised her finger away, scrunching up her face to try to keep it closed. Brittany giggled.

"Santana! Now you look even sillier than me! Did no one teach you to wink yet?"

"No!" Santana frowned. "Is it working?"

"A little," Brittany decided. "Can you see anything?"

"Yes! I see you! And you don't look silly at all!" Brittany raised her visible eyebrow. "Okay, well maybe a little bit…" Santana giggled. "But so do I now! Can I give you your present? I have to use your CD player."

"Sure, but do you know how to work it?" Brittany asked.

"Umm. Maybe." Santana muttered. "Let me see." After a few tries, and accidentally switching on the radio, making Brittany laugh even harder, Santana got her CD to play.

_Well I saw the thing comin' out of the sky, _

_It had one long horn, one big eye…_

"Santana!" Brittany cried, "What is this? It sounds like Grandpa music!"

"Shhh, just listen Britt! It's about a monster with one eye just like you!"  
>"I have two eyes, San, one is just covered up that's all!"<p>

"But listen!"

_It was a one eyed, one horned, flying purple people eater_

_One eyed, one horned, flying purple people eater _

"This is crazy!" Brittany laughed.

Santana grinned. "Dance with me?"

Hearing thumping noises, Mrs Pierce poked her head around the door.

"Girls, I thought I said…" Losing her trail of thought, she raised both eyebrows and gazed wide-eyed at the scene she had walked in on. Her seven-year old daughter, wearing the eye-patch her doctor had made her wear, and her best friend, face scrunched up so that only one eye could see, were dancing around the room, oblivious to the fact that she was there, crashing into everything, screaming along to Sheb Wooley, who was blasting at an insane volume from the CD player Brittany and her sister had been given for their combined birthdays. It was too much information to take in all at once. She looked back at Brittany, who had been miserable for a whole week, and watched as she threw her head back in hysterical laughter whilst twirling Santana effortlessly under her arm. Smiling, she stepped backwards, and closed the door again.


	2. Chapter 2

_13__th__ February 2005_

"San? San, are you in there?" Brittany called softly, pushing at the door of the last bathroom stall in the row. She had known when she'd glimpsed Santana running from their elementary school dining hall, face contorted as she tried not to cry in front of their classmates, who were all busy dancing to the new Kelly Clarkson song playing at the Valentine's dance, that this was the bathroom she would have chosen. It was the furthest from the hall so no one else ever used it, and the last stall, the biggest, was where all their best secrets had been shared for the past five years. When Brittany had arrived panting from the run, there it was, door pushed shut. She waited patiently, pressing her ear against the plastic to listen for any movement. Sure enough, there was a snuffle.

"Santana, I know that's you," Brittany whispered. She bent down so that her knees were on the ground and peered under the door at the legs swinging from the closed toilet seat in black tights and silver sequined ballet shoes. "I can see your shoes," she added.

"They might not be mine…" came a mutter.

"They are yours, I saw you putting them on, remember. Anyway, now I _know_ it's you."

"No you don't," came the unconvincing reply.

"What happened?" Brittany asked.

"I…hate…everyone…" Santana choked out, her sentence broken into thick sobs. "I…hate…David…and…Noah…and… stupid…Finn…Hudson..."

"Do you hate me?" Brittany asked softly, sat cross-legged on the bathroom floor now.

"No! Don't say that," Santana cried, louder this time. "You know I only… mean the… the boys."

"What did they do?"

"I… I…" another burst of sobs came under the door, and Brittany's face, cheek pressed up against it, started to crumple too. She hated to hear her friend like this and she hated not knowing what she could do to fix it. She let Santana continue. "David Karofsky tried to… to kiss me… on… on the mouth!" Santana wailed. "And…and then I ran away and… and Noah and Finn… were laughing at me!" Another wail broke into a fit of sobs. Brittany frowned and the corners of her mouth pushed even further down. Why would anybody do that? Why would they laugh at her? It just wasn't fair. She wanted to hold her, to hug her and wipe her face, which she knew would be red and swollen. She had to touch her somehow. She pushed the palms of her hands under the door so that Santana could see them.

"Britt Britt, what are you doing, you're going to get your hands all dirty!"

"Well open the door then," Brittany replied bluntly. She heard a reshuffling noise, and a click, and the door opened gradually.

"Stop that!" Santana cried, pulling Brittany's hands up from the floor. "Now you have toilet hands!"

"Well so do you, silly! You just touched mine!" Brittany teased, pulling Santana's hands into hers again.

"Briiiitt! _Stooop!_" Santana squealed, squirming away from her. She twisted her body around to get Brittany to let go, and then ran to the taps to wash her hands. Once she had squeezed soap into her palms, she beckoned to Brittany to do the same, and pushed the button for her too. "You're crazy!" she sniffed, as the water rinsed all the soap off, but Brittany just grinned at her. Santana flicked the extra water from her hands at Brittany, and almost smiled when Brittany squealed and scrunched up her face. She ran the back of her sleeve across her eyes and nose to try to dry some of her tears up. Brittany wiped her hands down the front of her dress and then swiped her thumbs across Santana's cheeks to catch the tears she'd missed.

"I'm really sorry that Dave did that, Santana," she said, earnestly, because she really truly was and she was mad at herself that she hadn't been there to hit Dave really hard. "And I'm sorry that those other boys laughed at you, too," she continued. "They don't even know anything about kissing," she said.

"Neither do you, Britt, you're only ten…" Santana said, sincerely, taking Brittany's hands in hers.

Brittany scoffed. "Whatever, San, I'm eleven in two months. Anyway, Finn Hudson is younger than me. His birthday's not till June. So he _definitely_ doesn't. And David Karofsky is stupid if he thinks he can just kiss you without asking first. And I do so know that we don't have to kiss any boys if we don't want to." She paused, and looked down at her feet, then back up to Santana. "Wait, you don't, do you?" she asked, nervously.

"No, silly, of course not!" Santana replied, eyes wide.

"Good. I mean. I thought so. But. You know. Since you're eleven I wasn't…" Brittany's sentence petered out, and she stared deep into Santana's eyes.

"Britt, its okay, I don't. I definitely don't." Santana reassured her.

"But you'll tell me first, okay? You know, if you ever are going to?" Brittany asked.

"Of course, Brittany," Santana whispered, Brittany's full name stretching out across her tongue. She pulled their hands down to close the space in between them, and then stretched her face across the gap, and kissed Brittany neatly on the cheek. She pulled back and smiled sweetly at her. "Let's go back," she said.

They stopped hand in hand outside the hall, and Brittany went to open the door, when Santana suddenly pulled her back. "Wait," she said. "I don't want to go back in yet. Let's just stay here, okay?"

Brittany nodded, and pushed the door open. "So we can hear the music," she explained. Santana smiled and nodded softly. "Wait, what is this?"

_When the music stopped I returned to my seat___

_But there's no stoppin' a duck and his beat___

_So I got back up to try my luck___

_Why look… _

_Everybody's doing the disco duck…_

Santana laughed out loud. "I don't know… it sounds like it's about… ducks?" She raised an eyebrow the way Britt and her mom had taught her to.

"I _love_ ducks!" Brittany squealed, tucking her arms up into wings and starting to strut in a circle around Santana, right there in the empty corridor, perfectly in time to the beat of the song.

"I know you do," Santana grinned, tucking her fists up into her armpits.


	3. Chapter 3

_31__st__ October 2007_

"_Brittanyyyy! Are you ready yet?"  
><em>

"Not yet, Soph! Give us a minute!"

"_But all the good candy will be gone!" _

"Oh my goodness, calm down! We'll be literally one minute!"

"Wow, Bee, your sister sure knows what she wants, huh!" Santana laughed, pressing her lips together so that the red face paint covered her lips evenly and leaning in to survey her handiwork in the full-length mirror Brittany's dad had finally installed in her bedroom. "I look _so_ good with lipstick on. I should definitely start wearing it to school. Noah Puckerman would be dying to go out with me then."

Brittany giggled. "But then when you kissed him it would get all over his face!"

"Well then I'd just wipe it off," Santana retorted, rolling her eyes.

"Or lick it off," Brittany suggested, totally deadpanned, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Ewww! Britt, that's gross!" Santana squealed. "I'd never lick his face!"

"I dunno, Tan, it seemed like that's what you were doing last Friday at your birthday party…" Brittany teased, only stopping when a cushion came hurtling through the air, narrowly missing her face. "Hey! If you get face paint on my cushions it's you who can clean it off! This yellow isn't dry yet!"

"I was most definitely _not _licking Puckerman's face!" Santana cried. "For your information our lips were exactly where they were supposed to be, i.e. on each others, and you shouldn't have been looking anyway! And I'm pretty sure if there's face paint on your cushion you can just rub it off…"

"I still can't believe you even let him put his mouth anywhere near yours. And since you're so good at it maybe you should just lick the paint off…" Another missile, this time a stuffed animal somewhere between a dog and a bear came whistling past Brittany's other ear.

"Beeeee! _Stop _it! Anyway, I don't see why it's a big deal. You have to kiss a boy sometime, and when better than the eighth grade? This way, by the time we get to high school, we'll be well ahead of the game. We'll be on top for sure."

"But it's so weird. Think how dirty it must be inside someone else's mouth. How do you know if they brushed their teeth right? And that's nonsense about high school. You don't have to kiss boys to get people to like you. Quinn said she's not going to kiss a boy until she's twenty-one," Brittany muttered.

"Well she's lying. Just you wait, she'll be kissing boys as soon as we get to high school, I know it. She pretends she's so well behaved but she wants to just as much as anyone else does."

"Maybe she really, really doesn't. I know I don't."

"That's just because you don't know what it's like, Britt."

"Well since you're such an expert, why don't you just tell me and then I'll know." Brittany stared straight into Santana's eyes and caught her expression changing oh-so-subtly. It was as if within a fraction of a second Santana's face had crumpled and sunk and then just as quickly righted itself into a beaming smile. It was strange, Brittany was almost certain that in actual fact Santana's face had hardly moved at all – there hadn't been time – but nonetheless she was sure her friend was hiding something. Brittany frowned to herself, recently she felt like there was more and more Santana wasn't telling her, and she wasn't really sure why, or how she could get it to stop.

"Because there isn't time! We have to take your sister trick or treating, remember!" Santana grinned, flashing her teeth, which seemed even whiter now that they were contrasted with the red lipstick. She grabbed Brittany's arm and pulled her to her side so that they were both stood in the mirror. Brittany grinned and nodded. She had to agree that her mom had done a really good job. The front of Santana's red dress was skin-tight, but the back puffed out and looked just like a ladybug's shell, and the black spots on the back stuck out and fluffed up somehow, she thought maybe her mom had stuffed them with cotton. She looked down at her own matching yellow and black stripes and then turned them both around to admire their matching wings. Santana pulled her into a hug, pressing their sides together and then shifting them around so they were face to face and booped her nose with her finger. "You as a bee and me as a ladybug! We look incredible! These costumes are awesome, Bee, your mom's a genius!"

As if on cue, Mrs Pierce's head came round the side of the door. "Hear that, Bee? I'm a genius! I like this friend, she can stay! What's your name again, kid?" she grinned at Santana, and Santana laughed back.

"Thank you Allison! I love it!" she said running up to Brittany's mom and hugging her. Brittany laughed, she knew it meant Santana was excited when she started to hug everyone in sight.

"Come on, you two, Sophie's going to explode if you make her wait any longer!" her mom said. "Are you all set?" Brittany nodded, and she reached out the arm that wasn't wrapped around Santana to grab Brittany too. "Look at my two little girls," she sighed. "All grown up already!" Brittany sighed, and took hold of the hand draped over her shoulder. Her mom smiled down at her and steered them out of the door and down the stairs, where Sophie, ready to be a fairy in her ballet tutu, instantly grabbed hold of Santana's hands and then twisted underneath them, hopping out of the open front door and pulling Santana down the steps towards the street, already busy with trick or treating children.

"Santana, you look _awwwesome_!" she giggled, leaping up into her arms.

"Careful, Squirt! You'll squish my wings!" Santana cried, spinning round in a circle so that Sophie's legs flew out behind her. Brittany watched from the porch, still with her mom's arm around her shoulder. All of a sudden she saw a nine-year old Santana, all skinny arms and messy hair, holding her new-born sister in her arms and concentrating _so_ hard as if she was the most important thing she'd ever been given to hold. She blinked again and realised now it was Sophie who had the long, stick-thin legs, and Santana, well, she barely even recognised her, lit by the twilight and the lanterns on her porch steps, wearing this skin-tight dress that she would never normally wear. Though her stomach was still flat and her waist tiny, her edges seemed a little softer and her hips a little wider and – where had _they_ come from? – there were definite breasts which sat neatly on her chest. Brittany thought about herself, and what she must look like in _her _dress. Nothing like that, she decided, since she was still just as tall and gangly as ever and her chest barely looked any different than her stomach. Barely. Her mom pushed softly into her back. "Go on, Britt," she said, quietly, as if she didn't want to pull her out from inside of her head too harshly. "I know it's a Saturday, but I want you to bring Sophie back by 8.30 so I can get her to bed." Brittany nodded and set off down the steps. "And Britt," she added, "You don't have to grow up just yet. Not until you want to." Brittany turned back to ask her mom what she meant, but the door was already clicking shut. She furrowed her brow and broke into a jog to catch up with her best friend and her baby sister, still wondering why hugging someone in a dress felt so different to hugging them in a t-shirt.

"We only did half the street… Are you sure you don't want to go back out?" Brittany asked, shrugging the wings off her shoulders while Santana kicked off her shoes.

Santana shrugged. "I'm pretty tired to be honest. Anyway, watching Sophie's reaction to all the costumes is the best part, so now she's in bed it wouldn't be the same," she said. She stretched her arms out above her head and clicked her knuckles. "Why don't we just get some ice-cream and watch tv or something?" she suggested. "There'll probably be a scary movie on somewhere!"

Brittany nodded. "Sure. Perfect. I'll get some bowls."

By the time Brittany was back in the lounge, Santana had got rid of her wings and her tights, and spread the cushions from the couch out on the floor.

"I made you a den," she grinned.

Brittany put the ice-cream bowls down in the middle and did a silly fist-pump in the air. "Yessss! I love watching movies on the floor!" she sung to a jaunty tune. Santana echoed the same tune back. "That's cus you are crazy!" Brittany grinned and collapsed down onto the floor beside her, grabbing a bowl and spoon and curling into Santana's side.

Thirty minutes later, both girls were already terrified of the movie they'd found on some bizarre television channel. It was Santana who'd cracked first, and flipped to a music channel, which was playing 'The Top Fifty Halloween Hits' but Brittany was thrilled when she did. They lay there in silence for a while, draped over each other, and for the second time that evening Brittany found herself wondering why exactly she'd failed to notice how grown up Santana's body looked, how curvy it felt.

Finally, Santana said, 'Hey, you looked really good tonight, Bee-bop," in her matter-of-fact way.

"Thanks. Yeah. I mean, you too," Brittany mumbled. "You looked good too."

They lapsed back into silence for a minute or so, listening to the music coming from the tv.

"Bee?" Santana asked.

"Yeeeaah?"

"Have I said something wrong today?"

"No. What do you mean?"  
>"Well you just seemed kind of quiet tonight. Like something was bothering you."<p>

"No, everything's fine."

"Okay then. Good."

Another minute passed.

"Bee?"

"Yes?"

"Is it the kissing thing?"

Brittany pushed her face down into her arm and groaned. She had known this would come up again. "I just don't really want to kiss any boys, that's all," she protested. "I just…" she paused. "I wouldn't know what to do."

"Well, its not _that_ hard…" Santana said, quietly. "You just sort of, mush your mouth in theirs and see what happens."

"But what does it _feel _like?" Brittany asked. "I don't mean what does your mouth feel like. Well, that too. But I mean inside of you what does it feel like. I'm scared I'll be too busy worrying about doing it right and I won't remember to _feel _it properly…"

"Well that's easy, then," Santana said. "It doesn't feel like anything."

"What does that mean?"

"You just feel all the bits of your tongue and your mouth moving together and its kind of warm and soft and stuff but that's it. It's just in your mouth."

"Well then why does everyone do it all the time?"

"I don't know, do I? But people do it and the boys really like it and then you get to go on dates and stuff. It all works out well in the end." Santana was talking a little too fast, and yet again, Brittany felt like she was keeping something back. She wasn't sure what or where or how, but she just knew that there was something Santana wasn't telling her. Something important.

"I see."

"Do you want to try?" Santana asked, nonchalantly, and Brittany thought her eyebrows were going to fell off the top of her head.

"Are you crazy?" she cried.

"No. Its just, I've done it and you haven't. I might as well show you what to do." Brittany laughed out loud, but when she saw that Santana's face was straight and sombre she quickly calmed down.

"Um, well." Brittany thought about it carefully. She did need practise if she was ever going to kiss a boy. And when she thought about it a little more, she realised there was no one else in the whole world she'd even really consider kissing than Santana. "Sure," she nodded. 'Okay then. Why not." Santana grinned and sat up on the cushions. Brittany sat up too and crossed her legs. "Should I…?"

"No, you stay there. I'll come to you." Santana said. "Close your eyes." Really, Brittany should have felt more vulnerable, sitting cross-legged in the middle of her living room floor with her eyes closed waiting to be kissed, but she didn't. Not at all. She heard Santana shuffling towards her, and all of a sudden a firm pair of hands clamped around her waist. She tried to move her own hands to give Santana more room, but she wasn't sure where to put them. She peeked one eye open.

"What do I do with my hands?" she asked.

"Maybe just leave them there?" Santana suggested, nodding with her head to Brittany's sides. Brittany's eyebrow raised again. "Okay, on second thoughts, maybe put them round my neck." They shuffled into the new position and even with her eyes closed Brittany was suddenly very aware of how close they were. She could feel Santana's chest rising and falling, and her own breath caught when she realised how shaky Santana's breathing had become. The music playing on the television crept forwards into her consciousness again, and she had to bite her lip to stop from giggling when she heard the familiar lyrics.

_For the monster from his slab began to arise _

_And suddenly to my surprise _

_He did the mash_

"Ready?" Santana asked, voice cracking, and Brittany wondered whether Santana always got so nervous when she kissed boys.

_He did the mash_

_It was a graveyard smash_

"Ready." Brittany replied, and she wondered why Santana had told her that kissing felt like nothing, when what she was feeling felt like everything.

_It caught on in a flash_

Yes, it was everything. Everything she had ever felt, ever.

_They did the monster mash_

And why, if Santana had done this so many times before, did she gasp as though she had taken a step on a staircase only to find that there was no stair to catch her.

_Its now the monster mash_

_The monster mash_

_Its caught on in a flash_

And how did Santana's hands end up clasped in her hair?

_Then you can mash_

_And do the monster mash_

And why had Santana covered her face with her hands as she pulled away and stood up slowly and walked to stare out of the window to the black of the garden?

And when had the song ended?

And which was going to begin?


End file.
